


Anything hurts less than the quiet

by smaragdbird



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Arousal From Killing, Cannibalism, Captivity, Character longs for death, Collars, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Display of Ownership, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Openly Raped in Public, Prisoner of War, Public Claiming, Public Use, Rape as Torture, Sexual Slavery, Unwilling Arousal, Victim as Spoils of War, forced to watch torture of others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 11:10:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18737839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/pseuds/smaragdbird
Summary: Maedhros would never speak of his time as a prisoner in Angband.How could he make anyone understand that the isolation and solitude when he was shackled on Thangorodrim was worse than any torture Sauron could inflict on him.





	Anything hurts less than the quiet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nonconamod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonconamod/gifts).



Maedhros never spoke about Angband and the thirty years he had been imprisoned there. He let everyone spin their own stories about it and some, like Fingon and Maglor who had seen his body, would be more accurate than others but he never spoke about it.

Perhaps they thought he couldn’t speak about it, that there were no words to describe the cruelty and violence he had endured. They would be wrong. The words were there but what he couldn’t do was to make them understand.

Morgoth had been the one to hang him from the Thangordrim but Sauron had been the one to take him to Angband and torture him. If not for him, Maedhros was sure the isolation would have driven him insane.

There had been times, when Sauron had come for him after years of solitude, that Maedhros had wept in gratitude. When he had craved the torture because at least it had meant that he wasn’t alone anymore.

How could he make them understand that? 

/

To Morgoth he was of no interest since he wasn’t his father, so he had hung Maedhros from that sheer mountain cliff and forgotten about him. He didn’t know how long he had been there because time quickly lost all meaning, days and nights blurring into each other.

Until Sauron had come for him.

The first time was between the bouts of flogging. Sauron was the first to stake his claim for all to see. Others followed, maybe all of them. He remembered the pain, the never-ending pain but no details.

The second time he was still delirious from a fever, his wounds healing faster than normal because of a foul draught the orcs had forced down his throat. He remembered fighting weakly, followed by their laughter. Again, it was Sauron first, it was always Sauron first, before the others could take their turn. And even then, only Sauron fucked his ass, the others always took his mouth, forcing him swallow or spraying their seed over his face and body.

The third time he was in chains but as healthy as one could be in Angbang. He was naked apart from the collar around his neck and the chains around his ankles and wrists to keep him from running, from lashing out, from using any kind of magic. Slaves had no need for those things. He was meant to serve them, however they wanted him to as long as Sauron allowed it. Every time he disobeyed, he was taken back to the cliff and left there for weeks or months, maybe years, he couldn’t tell. It was repetitive, unimaginative and very, very effective. Avoiding it became the central tenant of his life. The isolation was worse than anything else, even than the pain, the rape, the humiliation.

Once the garrison where Sauron took him when he wanted to use him, took a few elves captive. Sauron made a spectacle of it, lining them up in the courtyard to, as he called it, judge them. He sat on a chair on a platform above them with Maedhros, naked and chained, at his feet.

The captured elves were Noldor, tall with dark hair and grey eyes. They were unbroken yet, standing there with their shoulders squared and looks of pure disgust for their captors.

They would learn differently soon enough, Maedhros thought resignedly. 

One of the elves caught his eyes and his lips curled in disdain when he saw that Maedhros was an elf as well. It shouldn’t have mattered but seeing that even his own people looked down on him for what he had become, felt like walking though glass.

“They are beautiful, are they not?” Sauron asked, carding his fingers through Maedhros’ hair like a lover would do. These rare displays of affection confused Maedhros but he had learned to welcome, even to crave them as a short respite from the relentless brutality that shaped the rest of his life. “Welcome your brothers!” He yelled at the orcs assembled before him

When Sauron unlaced the front of his trousers, Maedhros felt something akin to gratitude. He crawled between Sauron’s legs to pleasure him with his mouth. This way at least he wouldn’t have to watch what was happening to the prisoners. But Sauron yanked him upwards by the back of his collar. 

“You did not think you would get out of watching this easily, did you?” Sauron smiled horrifyingly sweetly and pulled him onto his lap so that he was facing the courtyard as well. Two of the prisoners were already dead, or at least Maedhros hoped so. They had been ripped apart by hungry orcs, those on the lowest rung of the hierarchy. Many of them had never tasted anything as delicious as elvish flesh and they hadn’t been able to control their hunger.

Another one hadn’t been so lucky. A few of Sauron’s officers had claimed him and sliced his hands off, which they had thrown in a pot above a fire. But he wasn’t dead. Instead they had taken care of his wounds and Maedhros could imagine what fate awaited him. They would carve him up little by little each day. Orcs preferred their meat fresh. It could be weeks or even months until he died.

Maedhros could feel Sauron’s cock hard and heavy against his arse. Violence had always aroused him. 

“Look at them”, Sauron said as he pressed inside him. “That could’ve been you. It would’ve been you, if not for me.” 

He raked his claws over Maedhros’ chest, hard enough to break the skin but not to injure him seriously. As Sauron grabbed his cock, Maedhros realized suddenly what he was trying to do. He tried to struggle but Sauron caught his arms easily enough and trapped them between his chest and Maedhros’ back, so that he still had a hand free for jerking him off while he fucked Maedhros to the carnage in the courtyard.

“Please”, he croaked, his voice rusty from disuse. To his own surprise he could feel tears on his cheeks when he had thought he had no tears left. “Please don’t make me do this.”

“Shh, Maitimo”, Sauron emphasized his words with sharp thrusts against the one sweet spot inside him. “Don’t fight it. You were made for this.” Caught between Sauron’s cock and his hand, Maedhros couldn’t help but being overwhelmed by the pleasure building up in his treacherous body. He couldn’t stop it any more than he could stop breathing.

With a cry he came over Sauron’s hand, feeling sick at the ecstasy burning through him. No longer needing to restrain him now that he had achieved his goal, Sauron grabbed Maedhros’ hips with both hands and fucked him hard, lifted him up only to slam him down on his cock again.

He came with a hoarse, satisfied laugh. Sauron pulled out of him and pushed him to the ground, blood and semen running from his body. Maedhros felt too exhausted and ashamed to do more than lie crumbled at Sauron’s feet.

Maedhros no longer believed he would be freed. As long as Sauron had interest in him, he’d live and if he was lucky he’d would get turned into an orc once he wasn’t. That would have to be enough.

One of Sauron’s captains grabbed him by his hair and pulled him up. From his seat Sauron grinned down at him. “My men worked hard to capture your friends, King Whore. I think they deserve a break. Make it good for them and I’ll keep you here for a day longer.”

/

How could Maedhros ever make anyone understand that even the promise of more torture was better than the isolation up on the mountain where he had only his guilty conscience as a companion.

Who would even believe him, much less understand? Those he loved had been spared from such experiences yet and Maedhros was grateful for that.


End file.
